


The Mask of The Beast Called Need

by articulatez



Series: The Book of Love (Kinktober 2019) [4]
Category: Cupid (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Fisting, Gags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 04:22:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20901584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/articulatez/pseuds/articulatez
Summary: The sun sets on the horizon, the ship sways, the vampires offer each other their throats.





	The Mask of The Beast Called Need

On a ship bound for America, they shed their old identities like snake skins. Rosa, herein known as Madeleine, rested in the cabin she shared with Guilleme, reimagined as Lenard Gilly. The ocean gently buffeted her though she wasn't standing, and she had drunk a glass of burgundy wine to still the dizziness. Motions tumbled where Mother had left, and she was grateful that she didn't have to feel the silence quite yet. She reclined on the pillows, clutched a hand mirror and lifted her bangs. Since the day before the scars on her eye were opening, becoming something else. The sensation was strange. It oozed, the exposed pink flesh didn't sting.

It felt like she had been weeping from her empty socket. Lenard came through the door, effortlessly poised but she could see that he was tired. He would try to maintain the mask, and she would cast spells in the cracks to see the hurt within. Her heart lifted at the sight of him and she hastily set the mirror aside.

“I see you admire yourself as much as I do,” he said wryly, missing nothing. He shut the door and latched it, poured himself wine. “We have been sailing for ten days, aren't you hungry yet?”

She watched him, wary and sharp and longing for him. By night they slept in one bed, both of them haunted by those they'd loved and lost, and often she would press against his back and stroke his breast to feel his beating heart. She didn't meddle in his dreams. While sleeping, the floors and walls wherever he slept pulsed and breathed and tried to eat the living things that touched. A protective measure, it seemed.

“You were exhausted after the night we fed on each other,” she reminded him. He had slept until evening.

“Yes, but it was worth it for that bliss. Mine. Yours.” He slipped his hand into her hair, smoothed it from her pale brow and smiled, she thought, at where her eye was mending. “And I did not die or go mad, if you recall.”

“Gilly, it isn't that. It isn't only that. If I take too much from you then I'll be alone.” She touched his waist and sighed. “Suppose that happened and the centuries of life ahead were without you. What would happen to me, having tasted love? I believe we've been going about this all wrong.”

His lips quirked, in an instant hiding the unease at her words. So there was truth to it. “Oh? I am open to your suggestion, fair Madeleine. I did say that I would do whatever you wished for your love.”

“Mother kept my hunger in line with fear and pain as much as with her touch. You are good inside, as am I, and it shouldn't hurt. But... You need to take more from me.” She bloomed crimson. “What we have is overwhelming. Discomfort could temper it.”

The night they'd made love on Catherine's deathbed, she had felt the presence of something divine and disturbed, wings shielding their writhing forms from everything their lives used to be. She sensed it again in the silence following their words, Gilly appraising her. She was the one soul he had never wanted to hunt, and she had loved him from the start because he was kind, not beautiful. What she was asking could hurt both of them.

But he said, “We can try it your way” and coaxed her out of her clothes, plied her with deep kisses that tasted like torn veins.

“You're kissing me too much,” she argued, already flushed, wanting to devour his innards, to hold him so tightly he could never break free, and inside it all was her love. It was better than her wants, and that was why when he came in for another kiss she stopped him with three fingers to his lips. “No, Gilly.”

“Oh, but I do enjoy your pretty mouth. Let me ease that temptation.” He unwound the cravat from his collar, stretched it taut, and pressed it to her lips. She parted for him and he tied the cloth in place at the back of her head. Instead of removing the rest of his clothes, he braced fully dressed over her, parted her legs with his knee.

How would he feed without taking her? She sighed at the dry gag, savoring the heat at the back of her throat, the gentle burn in her jaw held rigid.

He touched the joining of her legs, and her mouth was overflowing with honey. There was no time wasted on gentle, fluttering foreplay. He pierced her with two fingers, watching her with an intent, attentive, tentative gaze.

Afraid that he would hurt her, as if she were a virgin. Madeleine left her virginity in years that memory has eaten, she remembered Mother's kisses and even that would be muffled by this new flavor.

Gilly's centuries of seasoning, the fatigue, the addiction, the loves he sacrificed to keep himself alive. To flourish without her or anyone to know him, to help him for this long... She tangled her hands in his hair and insistently guided him to kiss her breast.

Three fingers, up to the knuckle, slipping in her slick. The air tinged with more than mildew, more than ocean salt. She gave her sighs to the gag in her teeth and lifted one knee to rest by her ribs.

“Rosa,” he said, her secret name, colored by death and poverty and hate. “Bite down.”

Madeleine didn't understand until she felt his fingers, pinched together, pressing at her. A rush of dizzy warmth, she was exuding love when she relaxed for him and clenched her back teeth on the cloth. A different taste for him: unconditional love, a woman who trusted him knowing the monster that slept inside him.

He found a way. Four fingers and his thumb, her ache resonant. His clothes inflamed her skin and they looked at each other, struck dumb. The last time had been in the dark. She saw when their wings unfolded, his white and hers a dull red, she felt her love flow into him as he quickened his thrusts. He untied the gag and kissed her as she came, his tongue silky and tasteless. She came and he didn't remove his hand, continued to push and languidly kissed her to distract from any tenderness.

Too limp to protest and not wanting to, she drank his touch above and low, let him take her mouth and break her in. It was easy enough, she seeped and sighed and he sank in to the wrist, exclaiming that it must have been a sin for her to eat his hand as well as his heart. At least one of them had enough breath in their lungs to laugh, her cries so quick her eyes stung. There were two.

“Is this enough?” she found herself asking. “What if you need more?”

“Need? Need is the beast inside of us.” He cradled her in his wings. “You see me. You survive me. That is all I will ever need.”


End file.
